


Of Desks And Doors

by bluesquints



Category: Iron Fist (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Consensual Sex, Drabble, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Joy is jealous, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest, Ward is romantic, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:05:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesquints/pseuds/bluesquints
Summary: The door between their offices wasn't always there. Though neither was the need to fuck each other into their desks every other day.





	Of Desks And Doors

The door between their offices wasn't always there. Though neither was the need to fuck each other into their desks every other day.

Joy had been against installing it at first; claimed it was too conspicuous and could raise some eyebrows from the other board members and overly cautious HR department.

"Where's the harm in it?" Ward asked one evening of many they'd spent in her bed. Their bodies were exhausted from earlier excursions. She was on her back and he, facing her as his mouth teased the skin of her neck in the way that he knew she liked. "Just two business partners encouraging some confidentiality in the workplace."

"Sharing _too much_  in the workplace," she warned, turning into him, folding her arms between their chests while his looped their way around her small frame.

He pushed his hips into hers, urging a low grunt from her throat. "We've tried the whole fasting during office hours thing, but us Meachums have very little self control," his nose nudged against hers, lips ghosting one another's, though no kiss would be formed until a bargain was struck.

Joy sighed, conceding. "It's difficult. Trying to keep my hands off you after watching you do what you do best." And, to be true, seeing him reel in a notoriously stubborn collaborator always got her a little too hot. He always got what he wanted and he never denied her the same.

Ward raised an eyebrow, feeling challenged. "Oh, baby. That’s not what I do best."

Her lips inch closer to his, using her teeth to bite down on his lower lip. "Remind me."

He smirked against her mouth, kissing her chastely before he trailed down her body, seeking her core, leering up at her as he went.

She is reminded of that which she hadn't forgotten, making her scream until her guard dog made concerned whimpers at the threshold.

The following day, there's a door separating their offices as well as locks on the two main doors.

"Better safe than sorry," he shrugged.

She doesn't comment on the fact that there are locks on each side of the new door as well. Likely to keep her out when he's indulging in the extra back pill. The prescription drugs he keeps neatly tucked away beside the condoms in his desk drawer. The condoms he knows they don't need because she has an implant. Unless they're for someone else - a sudden measure of jealousy hit her, but she omits that too.

Later that day, they're putting the door to good use with Joy backed up against it and Ward using the weight of his body to keep her there.

He thrusts up and into her as she bears down on the waves of pleasure convulsing through her body. He follows her into rapture and his legs give way beneath them. With his arms braced around her, they drift towards the floor until she's sitting astride his lap and their fingers are tangled in each other's hair.

"I love you, big brother," she sighs into his ear.

Ward pulls back to look at her. She's so beautiful that it hurts him to know he isn't worthy and he almost wishes she wasn't his sister. If only to love her freely and without guilt, because this is the moment they all talk about; when it all clicks and you just know that the person in front of you, in your arms, is the one. He should be asking her to marry him but instead, he can only take her face in his hands and kiss her as though she were his bride.

A knock on the door and a ring from the phone is their cue to separate, redress and return to their respective desks, attempting - in vain - to forget they'd christened and since worn them out as they both meet with potential investors.

They'd find themselves glancing back and forth at the door's handle in each day to follow, waiting for it to turn when business got tough and, given their shameless lack of impulse-control, knowing it would.


End file.
